Negative Nelly

I hate speedwork. I know it's good for me, and I know it'll pay off eventually, but it's JUST. SO. BRUTAL.

Intervals/speed training is the cornerstone of the FIRST program's "Key Workout #1", which I admit, I haven't gotten to since this week (week 3). I opted to do the designated speed sessions from Week 1 so I could ease in and not be too taxed - part of my plan to not go in gung-ho and get myself hurt.
So I trotted down to the track after work this evening, with my shiny new 5K PR gauging what pace I should run the 400s at (2:05)
On the books? 8x400
What actually happened? 4x400
Sucking wind every step of the way.
2:01
2:05
2:06
2:07
The problem with this pace, I found, is that it's pretty much an all-out sprint for me because my stride is so short.

So, new plan. Next week I'll add on two more 400s, then two more until I can actually do the full 8. Then we will see.

Race Report : Boston's Run to Remember half-marathon

The good news : Finished. Didn't collapse.
The bad news : 2:22:32

A loud thunderclap woke me up at 6am yesterday. Then the lightning came. I got grumpy and slept too late. By the time I rushed out the door, it was actually quite nice out, and during the race it was clear, warm, and sunny. A little too much so at times.

I started off at a 8:15/mile pace for the first two miles, according to the mile splits. Once I realized that, I slowed way down, but the damage had already been done. I haven't run a mile that fast since the 7th grade. Around mile 9 I started walking. Ugh. Most walk breaks I kept to 10 seconds or so, but I walked across the entire Longfellow bridge. My brain just quit on me. I'd be giving myself these great peptalks to keep going, and then my legs would just stop running! I was all "Dude! Legs! WTF!" but they just weren't listening. Neither was my stomach or my lungs. They were all like "Nope. We're donecakes. Mind over nothing."

I'll try and give myself credit since I haven't been able to walk without a limp until about a week and a half ago, and trained through ITBS (dumb), but it's still frustrating.

On the upside, I felt a lot better after this one than after the first. I managed to take a shower and have brunch with my friends and go to a BBQ and not take any naps! Maybe that's an endurance event in itself.

Back on the horse

I took it easy for (most) of the week after the half. Wednesday, I tried some speed intervals on the treadmill and made it about 20 minutes before giving up and moving along to some kettlebell squats. Bad idea. I'm just now getting over Tight Biker Shorts of Pain. Anyhoos, I decided to get back on the road last night, as it was becoming painfully obvious that I am one of those "running is cheaper than therapy" folks. I rushed home after class, threw on some leggings (more of the Lindsay Lohan variety than the running tights variety) and a tech shirt and headband and headed off to my regular route. I was waylaid about 4 minutes in by intense side stitching across my entire abdomen, but continued to shuffle along for awhile, and forced myself to go on for about 20 minutes by taking my usual route over the causeway, which is kind of scary at night. I never want to stop when running in the pitch-black and windy over Pleasure Bay. I got to the mainland again and had to stop, limping home by way of Medal of Honor Park. Still, it was enough to take the edge off my life & coffee-induced anxiety. Ahhhhh.
My roommate just ran the NY Marathon and seems to think I can run a marathon too. While he insists that it's all mental, I insist that I don't run on my brain, I run on my feet and at the end of 26.2 miles, I would likely no longer have feet.
Though it can't be too much crazier than going to Grad school, which I'm also contemplating. Speaking of which, I should get back to writing this paper instead of blogging.

Race report - Artesani Park 5k

My official time has yet to be posted, but it was either a flat 30 or 29:59. A minute plus better than my last run on this same course, despite the heat and the fact I walked what I felt was a substantial part of the race. The walking was totally due to lack of mental toughness, and it makes me angry, but at the same time I must have been really hauling to still have beaten my previous time.
This race was much smaller than the last, and there was this hilarious group of Cougars (I don't know what really qualifies them as Cougars, but they were older and hotter than me so Cougs they are) gushing over the young male runners who were obviously going to win the thing with their tiny shorts and complete lack of body fat (and shirts).

All in your head

I read somewhere that running any distance beyond 3 miles is all in your head. I can only really run 3 miles, so I wonder if that means I have a weak mind. That's a depressing thought, but I wouldn't doubt it. How do I make my mind stronger? Jedi mind tricks? Wiggling my ears and rolling my eyes at the same time?
Or how about just flipping running more than 3 miles? Just DOING it. Somehow, I feel like there's some secret thing I need to do, some magic spell, some person I have to become and then POOF, I'll be able to run 10 miles. Telling myself that's not true doesn't seem to get the concept through my head though. Feeling guilty and weak just discourages me into not trying anymore, and that's no good.
The physical benefits of my quasi-running are obvious. My cardiovascular fitness has improved monumentally, for instance. When I started, I'd easily break 180 bpm running an 11 minute mile, now I'm at a comfortable 140-160 running a 9 minute mile. Can't keep up the 9 minute mile for more than 5 minutes, but hey.
Maybe the key is to just stop obsessing about 5 minutes and 9 minutes and 3 miles and just run all these silly thoughts out of my head.